After my less-than-productive run yesterday, I went for a three mile hike with Drew. Gotta say, he’s turned into a bit of a running buff and fitness freak. He’s dropped at least 30 pounds since his chemo ended a year ago. He works out religiously and eats very healthy. It’s been fun to watch his progress. And even more fun to see how proud he is.
He’s too fast/I’m too slow for us to do our training runs together, so the hike was a welcome opportunity to share in something active. I’m still smiling about it today.
The super steep inclines were much easier for him, but he patiently adjusted his pace for me. And when my legs started to burn, he encouraged me: “You got this, Mom.” Time and time again, “You’ve got this, Mom.” And, thanks to him, I did. We even ran up the final incline of our route together.
As we approached the end of one of the trails, we met this mom and little boy. She was attempting to teach him to ride his bike. (Multitasking child was propping himself with a walking stick.) The mom patiently guided him along, offering encouragement and singing his praises as he wobbled along.
It was quite the contrast from the Mom/son experience Drew and I had shared on the trail. I don’t know when it happened, but it dawned on me that my days of truly teaching my kids are over. My role is now one of support and encouragement…and, as it turns out, so is theirs. It’s strangely sad and wonderful all at once.